Finding My Poet Soul

Driving down south for spring break I wrote the following:

I saw a forest decimated
her trampled leaves were weeping.
“Apocalypse” her branches cried.
Who smugly says she deserves it?
Orange buds then red
mistake spring for fall
…… drip like blood.
tenacious, fighting, breathing, budding, living
Encased in the crypt of consumerism
defiant dancers declaring…..
the restoration of all things!